


The Morning After

by BlixaLooksCarsick



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series, Shin Megami Tensei Series
Genre: After Ending, F/M, Farewells, Future, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 18:04:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15248907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlixaLooksCarsick/pseuds/BlixaLooksCarsick
Summary: It's time to say farewell. Sometimes, the best parting gift is some sagely advice, and a call to be brave.





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> I think this pairing works really well also. But nothing is born out of nothing. Some first steps are always necessary.

The moment played over and over in his head. His mind froze about one very particular set of thoughts for days after it happened, much to his own confusion. Ryuji Sakamoto was a young man of strong beliefs, a key trait shared by the rest of his friends, his fellow Phantom Thieves. But something for which he stood out, apart from his brash demeanour and the quickness of his tongue, was his capability for pure, direct rationale. His mind and body operated on the same frequency; faithfully to his past as a promising track runner, his gaze focused on the finish line, and he trusted the engine of his heart and muscles to get him there. 

He knew his friends would do a more than competent job when observing the nuances. But that morning, he was forced to look long and hard at details he had long thought unimportant to him. It occurred on the morning of their farewell. Parting with the friend he cared for the most, the one who knew him best was no easy undertaking, and neither was saying goodbye to his bickering partner, a furball with a tongue as hasty as his own. Akira and Morgana – though they would surely meet again, Ryuji already missed them terribly, even as they had breakfast at Akira’s home, even as it seemed like days would run their course as usual.

Masako Kurusu had quickly taken a shine to Morgana, feeding him a mound of fried egg on a small plate on the counter. Akira was in charge of the coffee as usual; he made sure Ryuji’s was sweet enough for a palate that was yet to develop a taste for the brew. Even Akira’s father Takahisa, who seemed so distant the night before looked more involved, if only for the modest way he listened to Futaba’s questions. He closely listened for his response when asked if he, at some point, had been a pro-wrestler. Ryuji himself wished to chime in, to ask if he wrestled bears in his youth, but his mouth was already full of eggs and rice. He was not about to misbehave – not today.

There were a couple of hours yet to go before it was time to depart back to Tokyo. Ryuji made sure to make them count. Time was too tight to play football in the yard by the beach where the kids gathered to play, to attempt catching a few fish, or to try the local food, but it was never too hasty an hour to sit outside under the shade with a cold drink and look out into a landscape as rural as it was urban. The rest were in the house.

“You’re coming back, right?” Ryuji asked Akira. “I mean, for good.”

His best friend seemed taken aback by his question. This, he knew, was like him; he should not be surprised by him being this direct, though it still felt like having his mind read.

“Yeah.” Akira paused, weighing his thoughts. “At least, that’s what I’m planning.”

“Then it’s happening, easy as that. No offence, man. But this town is too small for you.”

“Are you calling me fat?” 

“I’m the one who works out here, just saying.” Ryuji knew Akira was smiling. “Hey, you’d better workout while you’re here. I’m gonna miss my running buddy.”

A brief silence settled between the two friends; it felt like sea breeze washing over them, cool and merciful. Ryuji turned to look at Akira. His hand was extended towards him. With confidence pulsing beneath the muscles of his hand, Ryuji grabbed it and squeezed with equal strength.

“It’s been an honour, Skull.” The bespectacled youth said, a slight break in his voice.

“The honour is all mine, Joker.” Ryuji reciprocated with words he would never say otherwise. For his friend, however, he would without shame or embarrassment. Looking into his eyes, a grey as dark as night settling over the world, the wild young man felt something bothersome creeping into the corner of his eye. He inhaled, trying to mask it as a sneeze about to happen when a hand ruffled both his and Akira’s hair.

“Hey! You two bedheads, what are you doing?” Ann’s voice chimed in with her usual cheer as she sat between the two young men. Morgana joined in, climbing up his shoulders, leaving puny little claw marks on his yellow tanktop. Ryuji’s first reaction was annoyance, but it quickly died down as he turned to look at his friends. Indeed, Akira was truly the first person he could call a friend, the first who accompanied him into the Metaverse, even if solely by accident. But they, the Phantom Thieves, began as those four, sitting under the shade, looking at the clouds in the distance. That furtive tear in Ryuji’s eye into a confident grin. It was phenomenal circumstances what brought them together. After all that happened, it could only be natural they would reunite. 

Hours passed; a lightning fast shopping spree for souvenirs ensued. Throughout those hours, Ryuji’s eyes gravitated to Ann’s only to look away. Though she looked no different from most days, she still shimmered at every turn, every step and every word. Times like these felt to Ryuji like scenes pried out of a dream; moments that robbed time of its significance. But for how dream-like this felt, something cold and real soon came upon their way. It was the time for farewells. They were gathered outside Akira’s house. Ryuji’s hand hurt from shaking Takahisa’s. 

“You take care now, eh? Don’t let those muscles waste away.” Ryuji shook Akira’s hand one more time, going then into a hug. 

“Alright. You don’t let anything outrun you.” Akira responded.

“Me? Never will.” Ryuji said. His resolve was as steel. His friend could rely on him living by that code, but something about the wink in his eye made him think there was something else to those words. Ryuji guessed he would break his head over it for weeks to come.

“I’m not gonna miss you at all, furball.” Ryuji snarked, as he picked up Morgana.

“Likewise, dumbass.” Morgana replied, without ever struggling or protesting Ryuji’s touch.

“Smell better when we meet again.” The youth pet the cat-shaped construct. Though they bickered constantly, Ryuji had grown to deeply care for their strange friend.

“You too!” Morgana struggled not to purr.

The rest of the farewells ensued. It felt for a moment as if they would take the better half of a day, which Ryuji guessed nobody had a problem with if it meant they could stay for another day, or two. Eventually, however, all were in the van ready, though unwilling to go. Makoto was at the wheel once more. For the briefest moment, her eyes were on the rear mirror showing Akira waving as they drove away. Ryuji, Haru and Futaba alternated spots at the windows to wave back. Yet they barely turned one corner when Makoto brought the vehicle to a quick halt. Everybody was startled.

“Ow! What the hell, Queen?” Ryuji yelled out loud.

“Sorry! It’s just… I forgot to give him this…” Makoto showed them a Buchimaru-kun knit hat they purchased the day before at a bazaar. “Be right back. I’ll just give this to him!” She barely remained inside a second longer before she ran back the corner. However, though she promised she would not take long, it ended up being close to seven minutes. There was something odd about her when she returned, sitting at the driver’s seat with hands on the wheel. “Alright then, let’s go.”

“Alrighty… uh, whenever you’re ready?” Futaba remarked awkwardly.

Makoto said nothing - she only nodded. The young woman turned the key and took the wheel with both hands, but though her shoulders looked stiff, her knuckles barely seemed to grip the rubbery surface. Haru was sitting next to her; she quickly noticed the way Makoto was blinking, rapidly, as if shedding away something undesired from the surface of her eyes.

“Mako-chan?” Haru called with concern in her voice.

“Senpai?” Ryuji joined in. Even from the backseat, he could see her silhouette was different from their trusty lieutenant.

Then it happened. As if overtaken by a sudden sneeze, a quick inhalation was followed by a stream of tears. All at once, Makoto crumbled before their eyes, repressed sobs while gripping the wheel; her head sank forward, hopeless and cast beyond consolation. First Haru, then Ann, then Yusuke, and then Futaba –all went forward from their seats to surround Makoto, to lovingly embrace and soothe her, and extinguish her pain however long it lasted, for it was not only hers. It was all of theirs as well. However, something became obvious to all at that moment. She wept for another reason, for her bond with Akira was different from the rest. 

It dawned on them like the drop of anvil, heavy and obvious on hindsight. Ryuji wanted to comfort his friend, but something kept him fixed to his seat. Akira’s words echoed back hauntingly. 

You don’t let anything outrun you.

Had something already run past him? Something important that he had neglected? Could he hope yet to catch up? There was something indeed; somebody. She had been there always, just like it had always been there in him, buried beneath a sense of disregard. Ryuji meditated deeply, noticing the warmth to something as simple as the way Ann hugged Makoto. Warmth, a different kind from a beef bowl sitting deep at the bottom of his stomach after an intense workout; a different kind from the fiery jolt underneath his muscles during battle. Relief, triumph, fun. This was something quite past it all.

He reached forward and petted Makoto’s head, minding her braided hairband, earning an unexpected chuckle from her. 

“Come now. He will be back.” Ryuji assured. He felt Ann turning to look at him, though he avoided her eyes. Seemed to him at that moment that Akira really told him to seize the day. It was like very much like him, to say something important in a way he knew would stick with him. “Mona too. What would he say if he saw you like this?” He smirked.

Makoto settled down five minutes later, tears dry, hands securely on the wheel, taking her friends back to Tokyo under the tender light of the sunset. The mood in the vehicle was spiced with a sweet melancholy. Haru and Ann had fallen asleep in their seats. Yusuke, always an acute observer noted Ryuji’s silence.

“Is something the matter, Ryuji?” He asked discreetly.

“Hmm?” Ryuji turned to him, distracted.

“You seem pensive.”

“Ah, I…” Ryuji was at a loss for words.

“Yeah, Inari’s right. Something’s up with you, Skullhead.” Futaba diverted her gaze from her cell phone. 

“I just miss them, is all.” Ryuji responded, half a lie.

“Yeah… “ Futaba agreed. “I need a nap. Wake me up when we arrive, or don’t… whatever.” The small girl fell asleep almost instantly.

Yusuke, however, kept his eyes on Ryuji with a studious squint. 

“I’ll need to talk to you sometime soon.” Yusuke noted. His tone was strange, but not foreign. It was a flavour to his speech that reared its whimsical reverb whenever he talked about art. 

“Sure.” Ryuji gazed quickly at Ann in the front seat, peacefully asleep. Perhaps Ryuji being introspective was a sight so rare to them. After all, they did not know the depths of his silence, that black and soundless shelter where he dwelled during his father and Kamoshida’s abuse. This was a place from where he summoned strength, from where Ryuji gazed at the finish line, however far or near.

He pulled out his cell phone. Unaware of Akira’s slumber after tearfully breaking down in his room - much like Makoto had – he texted back one single sentence.

I will catch up.

That night, at his mother’s house, Ryuji laid awake in the dark, eyes fixed on the ceiling. The goal was clear. Rejection was a clear possibility, but he at least had to try. He always did feel something about Ann, but also he felt too much was in the way; his grades, the shadows, the corrupt adults… and himself, the greatest hurdle of them all. It was long time to push past himself. But if he was to undertake this leap of faith, he knew he would have to do this properly. Friend or otherwise, Ann deserved Ryuji at his best, even if it risked being a losing effort. Gathering the courage would be a battle of its own. For everything else, he would need help.

He looked at Akira’s reply, arrived two hours before midnight.

Give it your all.

The morning after, Makoto blinked in surprise at a text she received from Ryuji. 

“Queen! I need your help. I want to ask Ann out. What do girls like in a guy?” Makoto grinned despite herself. She did not know whether to praise Ryuji’s directness or chastise him for asking her council about this instead of his studies. Part of her experienced healthy alarm when thinking of all the things that could go wrong if Ryuji went through with this. Would he have the maturity to handle rejection if it came to be? Would the friendship between Ryuji and Ann endure such an incursion? Yet for all those concerns, the chance of a happy maybe convinced her.

Makoto switched to another conversation. Akira’s message from two minutes earlier still filled her chest with warmth.

Good morning, I love you.

Her reply: I love you too. Hope you had a pleasant night. Ryuji just asked me the strangest favour. Care to give me a hand?

**Author's Note:**

> Next story will be from the perspective of Ann. I hope to do Finnish-Japanese catlady justice
> 
> (She's Finnish in my head, let me be)


End file.
